


Boot Camp

by Pollydoodles



Series: The Pizza Dog Chronicles [12]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, pizza dog - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 20:35:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6581212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pollydoodles/pseuds/Pollydoodles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“That dog needs his food supply cutting off.” </p><p>Darcy looked over Lucky appraisingly as Natasha came to rest beside her. “He’s not that bad.” The brunette protested, although the tone of her voice betrayed her true feelings somewhat. The redhead said nothing but fixed Darcy with a look. Darcy sighed. </p><p>“Okay, he’s a little fat.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boot Camp

“That dog needs his food supply cutting off.” 

Darcy looked over Lucky appraisingly as Natasha came to rest beside her. “He’s not that bad.” The brunette protested, although the tone of her voice betrayed her true feelings somewhat. The redhead said nothing but fixed Darcy with a look. Darcy sighed. 

“Okay, he’s a little fat.”

“Who? Barton?” Stark appeared at her other side, popping blueberries into his mouth as he spoke. “I mean, we’ve all been thinking it but I didn’t think you’d be the one harsh enough to say it out loud, Lewis.” 

Darcy shoved him and he threw a blueberry at her in response. She caught it in her mouth and grinned at him before swallowing it. Stark rolled his eyes. He should have known that Darcy’s reflexes would be at their best when food was involved. 

“Lucky.” She said, rolling her tongue around her mouth for the last taste of blueberry. “He’s a little…” 

“A little obese?” Natasha supplied, and Darcy shot her a withering look. 

“He could maybe do with a little Slim Fast.” Darcy said, firmly, the look on her face daring Natasha to contradict her. The redhead rolled her eyes and threw herself onto the sofa. 

“He could do with a starvation diet and some kind of doggy boot camp.” Said Tony critically, eyeing the Labrador and reaching out one be-socked foot to poke at the dog gingerly with his big toe. Lucky attempted to roll over away from Tony’s insistent jab but couldn’t quite make the full rotation. He huffed and puffed and wriggled half-heartedly before rolling back onto the side he’d started from. Catching Darcy’s eye, his tail thumped lazily against the hardwood floor. 

Natasha looked at her pointedly. 

“Oh-kay.” Darcy said resignedly. “But I swear I don’t know how this happened. I only feed him once a day.”

Stark laughed. “Really? Have you not noticed your boyfriend slipping him food off the goddamned table every evening? And cornflakes for breakfast. With milk!”

Darcy felt her face flush hot instantly and knew without having to check that her cheeks were scarlet red. Her fists clenched at her sides involuntarily and she had to remember that swinging for your boss’ boss probably wasn’t a great career move, however relaxed the workplace environment. “He’s not my-“ she bit out, and then sighed at the look on Stark’s face, which was gleeful. 

Triangular breathing. Remember the triangular breathing. Bruce had taught it to them all, with varying degrees of achievement. Steve in particular used it a lot, and had gone back to the doctor to see what other techniques he could try. The sight of him shirtless in loose trousers meditating in the common room had caused some heated conversation amongst the female members of staff regarding shape, form and an underground betting ring revolving around the central argument over whether the good Captain went commando or not. 

Darcy had promised herself never to mention that to him, or he’d probably have flushed a deeper shade of red than she was managing at that moment. She shook her head and focused on the conversation at hand. 

“Lucky just needs a little more exercise.” 

“He needs a little less shawarma. Should dogs even eat that?” Stark said, ponderingly. 

“He needs liposuction.” Natasha threw in tartly from the couch, absently flipping through a magazine. Darcy threw her hands in the air in exasperation at the pair of them combined. 

“I’m fixing it!”

*****

“Where are we going, Darcy?” Bucky asked as she wriggled into her overcoat and jammed her purple bobble hat over her head furiously. She turned to him and his deep blue eyes gazed back at her, an uncertain smile crooking one side of his mouth. 

“For a walk, Buck.” She marched over to him and unbuttoned his jacket and re-did it briskly, fitting the buttons into the correct holes this time, then smoothing the front down. “We’re taking Lucky for a walk.” He brightened at that, all uncertainty melting from his face and a genuine broad smile weaving its way across his face. Wound up as she was after her conversation with Stark, Darcy couldn’t help but grin back at him. 

When he smiled, it was like the sun coming out after a long, overcast week. She thought the words and instantly hated herself for them; waxing poetic like some sort of lovelorn teenager scribbling ridiculously poor prose into her diary at night. Still, she thought. It was the one thing that wiped away the years from his face like some magic eraser. And that was neither poetic nor ridiculous. That was something to be cherished. 

“Oh hey. Where are you two going?” 

Steve’s voice cut through her thoughts and she turned to find him, casually dressed in jeans and a hoodie, hands jammed into his trousers pockets and rocking self-consciously from one foot to the other. 

“We’re going for a walk.” Bucky said brightly, and slipped his hand into Darcy’s. She started slightly and managed, more or less, to stop her head jerking up towards his when he squeezed her fingertips lightly. “With Lucky.” His right hand shot up and jangled the dog lead at Steve. 

“Oh.” Steve’s eyes slid from Bucky’s wide smile to her cautious face, and he threw her a concerned look. “All by yourselves?” 

“Oh my god, the training class was a once off, and it wasn’t even that bad, Steve-“ 

“Darce-“ He turned the puppy dog eyes up to eleven, his tone at once pleading and reasonable, and she groaned. 

“I have speed dials.” She said, petulantly. 

He fixed her with an earnest look, just a notch or two down from the full Cap face, and she crumbled – rolling her head back on her neck and pulling the hat off. Bucky’s face dropped slightly, but his hand still clenched into hers. She squeezed back, reassuringly. 

“Why’d you wanna go for a walk, anyway?” Steve asked, coming closer and squeezing Bucky’s shoulder. 

“Lucky needs to uh, get fit.” Darcy said ruefully. Steve’s mouth moved into a surprised oh shape. “He’s kinda… Fat.” 

“Not surprised.” Steve laughed. “Buck shares everything with him. Don’tcha, Buck?” The dark haired man grins shyly and nods his head. 

“We have to do something, Steve.” Darcy said, frustrated. “I actually can’t believe these words are coming out of my mouth but the hi-vis jacket barely fits the dog anymore!” Darcy paused after the words tumbled out of her, and caught Steve’s eye. They both burst out laughing. 

“Can’t we just-“ Steve huffed, trying to get the words out whilst still chuckling. “Can’t we just get him in the gym?” 

Darcy fixed him with a look, then rolled her eyes. “Your answer to everything is the gym, Rogers.” 

*****

They went to the gym. 

“I’m not sure you should put a dog on a treadmill, Steve.” Darcy said doubtfully. 

“He’ll be fine.” Steve insisted. “Just hold his lead.” He dropped to one knee, and put an arm around Lucky. He hauled upward, and with a surprised look on his face added his other arm to the equation. Darcy groaned to herself. If even Steve had trouble lifting him, the dog really was fat. 

Bucky hovered just behind Darcy’s shoulder, still buttoned into his overcoat. She glanced over at him, and smiled. “C’mere, you.” He stepped up closer and she slipped open the buttons one by one before easing the coat off his broad shoulders. “Weren’t you hot?” She asked, looking up at him, and folding the coat over her arm. Bucky shrugged. 

Lucky for his part gave a small woof of surprise at suddenly being hauled off his paws, and Steve hefted him onto the treadmill. Lucky flattened his ears, looking worried. Steve gave him a reassuring pat on the head and motioned Darcy closer. “Right, all I’m gonna do is turn it on to the slowest speed. You should probably stand in front of the treadmill, encourage him to walk to you.” 

Darcy gave him a sceptical look, but handed the coat back to Bucky and took her position at the head of the machine. Steve nodded to her, and turned the machine on. As it rumbled into life and began moving slowly, Lucky lay down flat and put his front paws over his eyes. 

“What-“ Steve yelped. “What’s he doing?” 

Lucky was shifted closer and closer to the edge of the machine; Darcy doubled over and laughing before she let remembered to let go of the lead that was taut between her and Lucky, jerking up his head still hidden under his paws. Steve watched in disbelief as the dog fell ass-first off the end of the treadmill. Lucky rolled onto his back at Bucky’s feet, and the dark-haired man hunkered down to rub enthusiastically over the dog’s belly. 

“What just happened?” Steve turned to Darcy, confusion painted all over his face. Darcy managed to stop laughing just long enough to both switch off the machine and answer the soldier’s question. 

“I forgot, but he does that.” She giggled, and crossed past the machine to join Bucky. “When he doesn’t like something, or doesn’t want to do it, he just… Puts his paws over his eyes.” She shrugged and bent at the waist to stroke Lucky’s exposed stomach, and Bucky grinned over at her. 

Steve groaned. 

*****

Darcy was lounging on the sofa, Bucky’s head in her lap as she idly toyed with his long hair, his eyes closed in pleasure, when Natasha wandered in. The redhead raised an eyebrow at the domestic scene in front of her, but deigned not to comment on it. Darcy, tilting her head back over the arm of the sofa and catching the Widow’s eye, shot her a grateful look for keeping quiet. 

Natasha settled herself on the arm and glanced down at the brunette. Bucky shifted but didn’t open his eyes, comfortable that he knew who was in the room and that he didn’t consider her a threat. Darcy kept her fingers tousled in his hair, tugging gently at the tangles. 

“Where’s Old Yeller?” The redhead asked, reaching forward and snagging some of the popcorn from the bowl Darcy had precariously balanced on Bucky’s chest. 

“You mean Lucky? Or Steve?” Darcy asked without looking at her, feeding Bucky a handful of popcorn as well, dropping it piece by piece into his waiting mouth, his flesh hand twisting up and squeezing her thigh lightly in thanks. 

Natasha paused, considering. “Either, really.” 

Darcy grinned and looked back up at the spy again. “He’s on the stairs.”

“Which one?”

“Both. Steve’s version of Doggy Boot Camp.” Darcy continued to drip feed popcorn to the sleepy man with his head across her legs. She checked her watch. “He’s been dragging that dog up and down three flights of stairs for the last half hour.”


End file.
